Letter to Hermione
by KaterPotater
Summary: One shot, stand alone, songfic to David Bowie's "Letter to Hermione." Ron loves Hermione. Harry marries Hermione. Hermione kisses Ron by the fire. A progression of RHr romance and "the letter" written after the kiss.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything Harry Potter related. It belongs to JKR. And the song, "Letter to Hermione", belongs to David Bowie. Basically, I don't really own anything.

**A/N**: Sorry for those who've been watching for Only the Good or Nana. I've had really bad writers block and this is a little something to get things moving. Thing of it as my minds constipated and this is the Ex-Lax. And, with that stunning picture in your mind, a romance…

In the end, Harry won. He won for all wizard kind, defeating the Dark Lord once and for all. The staircase to freedom was littered with fallen loved ones, dripping with their blood, mixed with the tears. But he won, no matter the cost.

He didn't know all that he'd won.

Afterwards, Harry was famous. More than ever before. He could have had anything, but what he wanted was Hermione. Harry beat out his best friend and got the ultimate trophy.

The hand that wrote this letter sweeps the pillow clean. So rest your head and read a treasured dream.

Ron loved her. He loved her ever since first year. But he was just a shadow in Harry's glow. That was all he'd ever been. He'd known it ever since his blue eyes had seen that scar. At first he didn't mind, but then came Hermione. She was what he wanted more than anything else. All she did was fawn over Harry.

I care for no one else but you. I tear my soul to cease the pain. I think maybe you feel the same, what can we do?

He watched over her as she studied. In fact, he disregarded his own just to watch her. When she fell asleep in the common room, he gently carried her to the couch, covered her with his own blanket, and slept at her feet. When he awoke, she was gone. They never spoke of it, they didn't have to.

I'm not quite sure what we're supposed to do. So I've been writing just for you.

The wedding was beautiful. After the downfall, Harry was given the Malfoy Manor. That was where they were wed, out in the English gardens, with all the wizarding world watching. Ron was the best man. He cried when Hermione's smile reached her eyes as she said, "I do." He wanted to steal her away.

They say your life is going very well. They say you sparkle like a different girl.

Harry got rich quickly. From his magazine interviews to his own line of broomsticks, the name Potter generated money. Ron got some of the money. Hermione would never see him poor.

But something tells me that you hide when all the world is warm and tired.

Many times, Hermione was left alone in the old Malfoy Manor. Harry was always off on "peace" missions. Really they were giant parties for him. He was never very faithful. Ron laughed bitterly when he heard of Harry's exploits. 'How could anyone be better than Hermione?' he thought.

You cry a little in the dark, well so do I. I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to say, but I can see it's not okay.

Ron stayed at the mansion during most of those trips. Never did Hermione stray from her husband's bed to Ron's. But one time they met in the library. There, by the fire, Hermione confided all her worries of Harry to Ron.

He makes you laugh. He brings you out in style. He treats you well and makes you up real fine.

She said she was happy. But not as happy as she would have been with Ron. "I love you, Ron," she cooed in her velvety voice. Ron made no reply in return. Hermione leaned in the kiss his fire lit lips.

And when he's strong, he's strong for you. And when you kiss it's something new.

The kiss was returned for only a second. It was like cold burning, an emotion stirred deep inside him. Ron left in the middle of the night. He left behind Hermione, stunned and shocked, sitting on the couch in the library in front of the fire. Just like she had left him at her feet in the common room.

Needless to say, Ron did not feel comfortable. He wanted to howl his love to the moon, declare it in front of everyone. Instead, he wrote a letter.

But did you ever call my name just by mistake?

He wrote of love, confessing his won and praising hers. Never before had he put so much of himself on paper. In the end, though, he said nothing could happen between them. Ron wouldn't allow it.

I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to do. So I'll write some love to you.


End file.
